Heart Breaking Decisions
by Ashes3
Summary: Ron and Hermione have been avoiding the fact that they've had feelings for eachother for years. Will they finally admit how they really feel, or is it too late when another girl enters the picture? Short but sweet with a little angst mixed in. FINISHED!
1. The First Step

Summary: Ron has always had feelings for his best friend Hermione, though the feeling never seemed mutual. Should Ron move on to his newest interest, Annabelle? Or is Hermione secretly hiding her feelings from Ron? 

Rating: PG 

Genre: Romance/Drama 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except Annabelle. She is my own creation, built in the laboratories of my mind. All the others like Ron, Hermione, Harry, Snape, Draco... all of them, belong to J.K. Rowling 

* * * 

"No Ron." 

"Please Hermione! It's due tomorrow and I can't think anymore! Oh, come on, just give it to me and I promise I'll never ask you for anything ever again." 

"You ask me for my toast every morning, Ron." Hermione said without looking up from her textbook. 

Ron sighed and rolled his eyes. "I do it for your own good, Hermione. Everyone knows all that fat goes straight to your hips." 

Hermione looked up and stared at Ron in disbelief. 

"What?" Ron asked, confused. 

She kept staring. 

"....Oh! No! I didn't mean you personally! I mean um... oh Gods... of course I didn't mean you! You have very... er... shapely hips. Yes! Yes that's it!" 

Her mouth fell open. 

"No! No, that's not it. Um... I mean I don't notice them or anything... I've just heard stories..." Ron drifted off. He was now clearly avoiding her eyes and studying a crumpled ball of parchment near his foot. 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Hermione recovered from her initial shock and tried to regain her composure. 

"...Right. Well I must be off to bed then. Big day tomorrow." She said crisply and rushed off to the girl's dormitory, leaving her homework behind. 

Ron looked up slowly at the now vacant chair Hermione occupied moments before. Slowly, he stood and picked up Hermione's essay. He looked over it once, then carefully rolled it neatly and tucked it under his arm. He quickly gathered the rest of his things and headed towards the stairs leading to the boy's dormitory at the opposite end of the common room. 

* * * 

"Tap tap tap." 

"Ughhh... no...no thank you Professor Snape, I'd rather not meet you in the Astronomy Tower Saturday night..." 

It was 3:30 A.M. the morning after the embarrassing conference with Hermione, and Ron was fast asleep dreaming of God knows what. 

"Tap tap tap." It came more urgently now. 

"Arghh, Pig!" Ron exclaimed when he saw the fluttering ball of fluff outside the window. 

Angrily, Ron sat up in his four poster, brushing his head against the top, and drug himself sluggishly out of his warm bed into the cool air of the early morning. 

He shivered as he treaded across the cold floor to the frosty window. 

Damn it Pig! Don't you know what time it is? I can't go around school all day tomorrow with dark circles under my eyes, now can I?!" Ron growled menacingly as he pried open the old castle window and let the small hyperactive owl in. 

Pig promptly dropped a letter on Ron's head and continued to flutter madly around the room, bouncing off random objects now and then, all the while, tweetering enthusiastically, apparently very happy he had woken Ron up. 

"Oi! Calm down Pig! You'll wake everyone up with all that noise you're making!" Ron whispered loudly when Pig managed to knock over a picture of Neville's grandmother. 

Ron rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he bent over to retrieve the letter. He didn't recognize the handwriting which addressed the envelope simply to "Ron". It was clearly a girl's handwriting, but definitely no one he knew. Parvati and Lavender's handwriting was always dotted with hearts or flowers and Hermione's- his ears turned pink at the thought of her- Hermione's handwriting is always very neat and professional. This writing however, was professional, yet more curvy than Hermione's, but not as immature as Parvati's or Lavender's. Ron had never seen any handwriting similar to this one, this was more angelic than any he'd seen before. 

Ron slowly turned the letter over and carefully broke the wax seal imprinted with the Ravenclaw mascot. 

"So she's in Ravenclaw hmm?" Ron thought to himself as he pulled the actual letter out and unfolded it. 

It read: 

_Dear Ron,_   
_ Hiya! Umm... you probably don't know my name, but perhaps you've seen me around school before. It's Annabelle Mace. My name, that is.I can't believe I'm doing this, but I need to tell you something. I have a sort of crush on you... It all started in our first year. I always saw you with Harry Potter and some girl. I don't know her name, but she seemed friendly enough. I had always wanted to be in your circle of friends, but was always too cowardly to approach you. Anyways... I thought it was time I finally told you how I feel and that I exist and all. If I didn't totally waste my time writing you this letter, then meet me by the Quidditch Field Saturday afternoon right after lunch. If you're not interested, I just embarrassed myself horribly. Please send a reply soon with your answer.___

_Sincerely,_   
Annabelle 

Ron was shocked. He read the letter twice more before finally folding it neatly and putting it back into its envelope. 

"Annabelle." He thought to himself. "What a pretty name." 

He tried to remember any mention of an Annabelle Mace, but couldn't recall ever hearing the name before. He was definitely wanting to meet her, except there was only on dilema. 

Hermione. 

Ron couldn't deny he had had feelings for Hermione for some time now. Hermione though, had never known of these feelings and never showed any interest in Ron other than friendship for as long as they had known eachother. He had always hoped that Hermione would somehow show some sort of sign that she, indeed, had some sort of romantic feelings towards him, but she never did. 

Now Ron had this toublesome task before him. 

Decide to either not meet Annabelle and hope Hermione will come to her senses or he could forget about Hermione and meet Annabelle by the Quidditch Field Saturday afternoon. 

He turned the letter over in his hands, lost in thought. 

Then, he quietly tip toed over to his trunk and dug around for a scrap of parchment and a quill and ink bottle. 

He quickly scribbled a note to Anna. 

_I'll be there.___

Ron lured Pig away from his bouncing reflection in Harry's glasses with some owl treats and tied the note to his small leg. Now Pig, you bring this to Anna. It's very important you do this, it might be my one chance to get over Hermione." 

Pig tweetered happily in agreement before Ron shoved one last owl treat in his mouth and pushed him out the window, whereupon he dropped several feet under the weight of the letter before finally catching wind under his wings and started flying haphazardly toward the Ravenclaw wing of the castle. 


	2. You Fight with the People you Care About...

After Ron had sent a reply to Annabelle he promptly returned to the warth of his bed to steal a few more hours or precious sleep before he had to face   
another day of teachers, homework, and worst of all, Hermione. 

He dearly dreaded having to look Hermione in the face after the whole fat thigh fiasco the night before and was seriously considering whether or not to   
just stay in bed the rest of the day. 

Ron assumed it was time to get up judging by the sound of voices and the smell of bacon wafting up from the kitchen below, but just pulled his covers over his head in response. 

"Hey Ron, you getting up?" Harry asked as he started to brush his untamed hair. 

"In a minute." Came the muffled voice of Ron from beneath the quilt. 

"It has been a minute, Ron." said an agrivated Harry when he saw this was going to be one of those days when his hair rebels against him and layed the hair brush back down on the nightstand. 

"Okay, then. Two minutes." 

Harry sighed and sat down on the bed near the big lumb he guessed was Ron. 

"Problems in Ron World?" 

"No." 

"You sure?" 

"No." 

"wanna talk about it?" 

"No." 

"Why don't we try expanding our vocabulary, hmm?" 

Silence. Then, "No." 

"Come off it Ron. What's bothering you?" 

"Nothing, I'll be out in a minute." 

"I thought you said that a minute ago." 

"Yes, but you used my minute by talking to me, didn't you?" 

"Maybe." 

"No, the correct answer is yes." 

"I thought it was maybe." 

"Well, you're wrong." 

"How's that?" 

"You said maybe when the answer is yes. You didn't say yes, you said maybe. Therfore, you are wrong." 

"I said maybe?" 

"Yes, you did." 

"I thought I said no." 

"No, you said maybe, which is wrong. Even if you had said no, though, that's wrong too. The right answer is yes." 

"Oh... are you sure?" 

Ron threw the blankets off him in exasperation. "Have you been licking toads again Harry?! Really though! You've completely fallen off your rocker!" 

Harry smiled at the sudden appearance of his friend. "Awww.... there's that lovely face of yours! So, ready to get up?" 

"I still want my minute." 

"I thought it had already been a minute." 

"It hasn't." 

"It hasn't?" 

"No." 

"You sure?" 

"Yes." 

"I don't think you are." 

"TICK TICK TICK POTTER!!!" Ron shouted angrily. 

"Fine, fine, I'll be downstairs eating my lovely sausage links. See you in 'a minute'. 

With that, Harry hopped off Ron's bed and bounded down the stairs leading to the common room. 

Ron sat there for a little while longer, staring up at the underside of the scarlet canopy above him before finally climbing out of bed and started to get dressed. 

He quickly threw on a clean robe, gathered his school supplies, and, in a hurry, dashed down the stairs, running his hands thrugh his hair to try and make it lie flat, before remembering Hermione's homework he had left behind in his trunk. 

Ron hurriedly turned and headed back upstairs to his trunk and grabbed the rolled sheet of parchment which had Hermone's complicated potions homework on before leaving the common room for the last time that morning and started running through the corridors, heading toward the Great Hall. 

Left. 

Right. 

Right. 

Left. 

"...Got to get to the Great Hall..." He thought. "...I need to talk to Hermione..." 

He smiled to himself. 

Just five minutes ago he hadn't wanted to look Hermione in the face let alone have a conversation with her. 

Now, however, he dearly wanted to clear things up with her, and it had to be now. 

First class today was potions. 

Ron cringed. 

Snape definitely would not allow a young red headed, freckle faced wizard groveling for forgivness from his best friend in the middle of explaining a rather complex shrinking potion and Ron couldn't bear a whole period of sideways glances and angry glares. That's why he had to do it this morning, before classes. 

Ron thought of the angry glare Hermione could emit from her heavenly face. 

"Was Hermone angry?" 

He pondered the question. 

"She didn't actually act angry... more shocked really. Perhaps.... flattery?" 

He thought back to the face she had made when he said she had shapely thighs. 

"No... couldn't possibly be flattery... definitely shock." 

Ron quickened his pace as he passed the statue of 'Pickney, the Portentious piglet'. He was almost there. 

He looked at the gold plated wrist watch Harry had given him his last birthday. 

"7:38 A.M." Ron thought. "Only twenty-two minutes until double potions." 

Finally, the aroma of the Hogwarts breakfast feast became stronger and Ron entered the Great Hall. 

He immediately sought out the beautiful, witty girl he had befriended in their first year, and had started feeling something more than friendship for her since their fourth. 

Ron almost instantly noticed her sitting beside their friend Harry, just staring down at her plate of eggs. 

His heart skipped a beat and he instinctively held his breath. This had been Ron's normal reaction to his best friend for some time now and apparently it hadn't stopped, despite the letter from Annabelle. 

Ron stiffly strode over to the Gryffindor table, struggling to stay calm. 

As Ron approached, Harry looked up and smiled. "Nice of you to join us Ron, sausage?" Harry asked, holding up a plate of sausage links to Ron. 

"Er... no thanks Harry. Actually, I need to speak to Hermione." 

Harry raised an eyebrow questionally. 

"Alone." Ron added when he saw Harry's hesitation. 

Harry looked back and forth between the two a few times before shrugging and went back to his breakfast. 

"Hermione?" 

"Hmm?" she asked without looking up. 

"Will you come with me?" 

A few moments went by as Hermione apparently considered the request as Ron shifted nervously awaiting her answer before she finally stood up, brushed the wrinkles out of her robe, and waited for Ron to lead her away. 

As he quietly btreathed a sigh of relief only he could hear, Ron turned on his heel and headed out of the Great Hall. 

Hermione obediently followed Ron, but never looked up once and kept her eyes lowered to the ground. 

After a few turns here and there Ron finally arrived at his destination: an old storage closet. 

Ron opened the old, sqeauky door and stepped aside for Hermone to enter first. 

Hermione looked inside. It was a rather large closet, more like an abandoned classroom really. It was filled with wooden chairs and stools, some borken, a few desks scattered around, an ancient wardrobe in the far corner, five or six stained rugs off to the side, and an inch of dust on everything that inhabited the room. 

She tentively stepped inside and watched as Ron took one last look up and down the hall before walkng inside and shut the door as quietly as he could. 

He immediately shoved his hands in his robe pockets and became fascinated with his feet. 

There was a few minutes of awkward silence before Hermione figured she had waited long enough. 

"Ron-" 

"Just a second Hermione, I just need to gather my thoughts." 

Hermione rolled her eyes and said rather snobbishly "That really will take just a second, won't it?" 

Ron glared at her. 

"Don't look so hurt Ron. You of all people should know you aren't exactly the sharpest knife on the table." 

Ron turned bright red and tried to muster up some of his best insults. 

He started off well enough. 

"You have a bit of brown mess on your nose Hermione. Tissue?" Ron said with a smile as he pulled a crumpled white cloth out of his pocket and brandished it at Hermione. 

Hermione gasped at the accusation that she was a brown noser, but quickly recovered and furrowed her brow at Ron. 

"I don't suck up to professors to get 'A's Ron," she said with her teeth clenched. "I actually have a brain and yes, I actually use it. You would like to have a brain, wouldn't you Ron?" 

Ron was now incredibly angry now that Hermione had practically called him thick, and the crimson in his face now seemed to bleed into his hair. Even so, Ron couldn't come up with a new comeback. He just couldn't bring himself to fight someone he cherished so deeply. 

"Well..." 

He struggled fo the next few words that would combine to make an amazing insult and send Hermione into a frenzy, but just couldn't find them anywhere inside his head. 

"at least I don't like girls in that 'special way' like you do!" 

Hermione smiled. 

"Damn! Oh bloody hell Ron! How could you say that!!?" Ron thought angrily. 

"So you don't like girls, eh Ron?" Hermione snickered. "You like little boys?" 

Ron narrowed his eyes into little slits as Hermione's snickers turned into laughter. 

"Do you- fancy- our Harry?" She managed in between guffaws. 

Hermione was now convulsing under the intense laughter that was taking her over and could no longer speak. 

Ron, however, was not very amused. He was mad at Hermione for laughing at him and even angrier at himself for making the huge mistake that caused it all. 

Ron decided that they'd discussed the matter enough and was going for the door before he remembered something else he had brought Hermione to up there for. 

He started rumaging through his bag for Hermione's homeworkshe had left in the common room the night before, but when he finaly found it near the bottom by his favorite quill, Hermione was doubled up in laughter and wasn't paying any attention to Ron. 

"Here!" Ron practically yelled. "Here's your damn homework!" 

He then threw it at her feet and stomped out of the room. 


	3. The Best Part of Fighting is Making Up

Disclaimer: All the same as before... bleck I'm too lazy. 

*A/N* Dreadfully sorry for the awfully long wait! And it isn't even that long! I feel terrible. Anywho, hope it's somewhat OK.   
  


Her hysterical laughter bounced through the corridors, echoing in Ron's ears. It pained him to hear it. It was like Hermione was rejecting him. Like she was saying cruel things to him without showing any mercy or compassion. Every "Ha." and every "Hee." stung Ron in its own twisted way. Ron didn't hear laughter, he heard "I hate you." "You're ugly." "Go away!" "Why would I like you?" "You're horrible Ron." "Who would ever want to date you?" 

He had to get away. He had to get out of earshot. He had to run. 

He ran as fast as he could, past empty classrooms, closed doors, bewildered students, angry teachers, and indifferent statues before he finally could run no longer and collapsed in a heap in a deserted hallway in the far West Tower. 

There he lay, gasping for breath, clutching his painful chest, and staring blankly up at the towering ceiling above him. 

"Why?" was the word that screamed and tore itself through Ron's head. "WHY?! Why does it hurt so bad? She only laughed at me! It's not a big deal! This shouldn't hurt this bad! She's only a girl! She's only 'Mione!" Ron's eyes started to water as he choked back a sob. 

"She's only just a prude bitch. An ugly, stupid, know-it-all. She doesn't even care about anyone 'cept herself. What's this?" Ron touched a droplet of hot water in the corner of his eye and brought it to his lips. "A tear?" He pulled the tip of his finger away from his mouth and studied the glittering wetness upon it. 

For years Ron had bottled up his sorrows and fears. Never thinking of them and _never_ crying. Always converting it into anger and unleashing it on a unsuspecting victim. 

Sure, he'd cry when he was very young, but never past the age of six. He was taught by his brothers and school friends that crying showed weakness and boys weren't supposed to cry. Plenty of times he'd felt like letting go and shedding a tear or two, but his pride kept him from doing so. Like he had been told before, crying showed weakness, and Ron never wanted anyone to see that side of him. 

Through his childhood, Ron had always found alternatives to crying in any situation. Whether it was decking Fred for breaking his miniature model of his Cleensweep5 (he wasn't old enough to have a real one yet) at age seven, or shouting threats at Malfoy for calling him poor, Ron always settled it without tearshed. 

Or at least his own. 

Now, however, it has changed. Ron froze in horror as tear after tear broke the the invisible barrier which he had so carefully created after nine long years and flowed freely down his horror-struck face. Not only did they flow, they _burned_. 

"It hurts to cry." Ron thought as another hot droplet leaked out. "It hurts in many ways." 

Ron layed there a little while longer, still trying to regain his lost breath, before he finally wiped away the tears angrily and stood upright. 

He looked around at his surroundings trying to figure out where he had gotten himself to. He hadn't been paying attention to where he had been going when he was fleeing from Hermione's taunting laughter and was now definitely lost. He wandered aimlessly along unidentifable hallways, keeping an eye out for things he recognized, and dreading having to face Snape for being late. 

He started racking his brain for some pleasable excuses that Snape might believe when Ron came walking in half an hour late. "I uh... was studying for class, Professor, and I sorta fell asleep from all the strenuous activity." Ron scrunched his face in dissaproval. "Argh, pleasable Ron, I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face anyway." He bit his lower lip in thought and tried again. "Er... I... oh I don't know!" He shouted in frustration. "I was in a closet alone with Hermione until she laughed at me and I flipped out like a stupid baby and ran as if a hippogrif was charging until I got myself lost in the West Tower!" 

Ron kicked a statue of a stout little pig, cursing it. "Damn you, you stupid little boar! Damn you and your short legs!" He continued kicking and shouting rude insults until he noticed this wasn't just any pig. This was 'Pickney, the Portentious Piglet'! Ron stopped, mid-kick, when he noticed it and frowned at the menacing little creature he passed earlier that morning on the way to meet Hermione. 

Well, now he knew where he was, the rest was just a matter of making himself walk to Potions. He gave Pickney one last kick and strode off to the dungeons. 

* * * 

"Ahh, Mr. Weasley... so kind of you to grace us with your presence... would you care to tell us why you're just now showing up for class?" Prfessor Snape's oily voice echoed through the silent chamber as Ron slid past the door and was greeted by a wall of fragrant fumes bubbling up from simmering cauldrons placed randomly around the room. 

"Uh, hello Prfessor Snape... I just had some er... personal problems..." Ron said sheepishly and trying to avoid his fellow classmate's accusing stares at the same time. "Sorry..." 

However, Snape was still looking at Ron and now had a sneer growing across his face. "Personal problems, Mr. Weasley?" He said, pronouncing each syllable slowly and clearly. "Is it that time of the month already? I'll have to set my callender." Snape said scathingly, earming snickers from the Slytherins. 

Ron balled up his fists, but wisely said nothing as Snape continued. "I suppose you don't have your homework either then, do you?" 

Ron looked up slowly at the table him, Harry, and Hermione usually sit. There they sat, Harry looking a bit concerned and Hermione looking straight at Ron with a look filled with pity and a bit of anger. "She must think I copied her homework." Ron thought as Hermione tried to look more stern buy furrowing her brow. 

They held eachothers gaze for a few seconds longer before Snape's harsh voice startled Ron back into reality. "Sorry to interupt you Mr. Weasley, but do you, or do you not, have your essay?" 

Ron looked back up at his Potions Professor slowly and calmly stated "I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm afraid I don't." 

Snape sneered once again. "Of course, not. Hmmm.... ten points from Gryffindor and a detention this Saturday at two P.M. here in the dungeon. You may take your seat." 

Ron scowled as he walked to his seat, past the Slytherin's whispers, between Harry and Hermione. "Well at least I'll still get to meet Anna." he thought. 

He plopped his Potions book down on the table and took his seat. "What were you late for, Ron?" Harry whispered as he slowly stirred the contents of the cauldron. "Huh? Oh just that stupid prat Malfoy. We had a row and he used the Jelly Legs Curse on me. Hufflepuffs have this period off so Justin Finch-Fletchey found me in the West Tower all wobbling about. Luckily he knew the counter curse." Harry stopped stirring and looked at Ron quizzically. "Why didn't you tell Snape?" 

"...Huh? Oh, um... he wouldn't believe me anyways. He'd of just taken an extra ten points off Gryffindor." Ron said distractedly. He had been watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye secretly for the past few minutes. 

Harrry saw Ron was probably right and continued to stir as Ron watched Hermione trace patterns on the wooden desk with her small fingers. He slowly looked from her rounded fingertips, up her arm to her soft neck, absorbing every detail and every one of her soft curves until it was implanted into his memory before his chocolate-brown eyes came to rest upon her angelic face. Her delicate features seemed saddened; troubled to some extent. It pained Ron to see her like this, even if she did laugh at him. 

"Ron. Hey, Ron!" Harry shouted. Ron jerked his head in Harry's direction. "What?" He asked, agrivated. 

"Could you hand me that bit of snake skin over there?" Harry asked, pointing to a small pile of cast of skin shavings. Ron shuddered, but pushed the small bundle towards Harry and continued to look at Hermione, undetected. 

She was writing somwthing now on a small piece of parchment with an old eagle quill. Ron caught her scribble her signature near the bottom of it before she folded it and handed it to him and quickly looked away. 

Ron unfolded it and read it carefully to himself. 

_Dear Ron,___

_ I thought for sure you'd copy my essay. I was really surprised you hadn't. Well... thanks._   
  
_ I got worried when you stomped off and were late for class. I thought you might've done something dramatic. Harry had to practically tie me down to keep me from going to find you.___

_ Anyways, I'm glad you're alright. And... I'm sorry about earlier. I don't know what got into me.___

_Sincerely,___

Herm 

Ron smiled and put the note in his bag. "She was worried." He thought. "She really cares about me." 

Ron pulled out a crisp piece of parchment and wrote back to Hermione. 

_'Mione,___

_ Thanks for your concern. Guess you must've felt like I did back in our first yearwhen that great ugly brute of a troll had you hostage in the girl's toilet.___

_ As for the homework, I wouldn't have ever cheated off you without your permission first; you know that. :-)___

Ron 

Ron handed the quaint little note to Hermione with a goofy smile on his face as Hermione gently took it from his hand and read it silently. 

When she finished she flashed Ron a brillant smile and continued to listen to Snape's lecture on the importance of timing in Drowsiness potions. 


	4. Late Night Chat

Disclaimer: None of them belong to me except Annabelle. 

*A/N* I'm sort of proud of this chapter. I think I did it halfway decently. What do you think? 

* * * 

"Wasn't the Sore Throat Epidemic Among Dragons in 1492?" Harry questioned, looking up from his History of Magic homework at his two best friends; Hermione to his right, and Ron to hers. 

"Umm..." Ron chewed the tip of his quill, trying to think back to one of the many dates Professor Binns force fed him and the rest of the Gryffindors last Wednesday. "No clue." He said giving up. "Of course not." Said Harry with a grin. 

Ron smiled and playfully reached across Hermione to push Harry. Harry in return laughed and took Hermione's open Charms book she had been studying from her lap and held it out of her reach. "No! Give it back Harry! I need to study!" She shrieked. 

"No, " Harry said as Hermione tried to climb on top of him to retrieve her book. "what you need is to have a bit of fun." 

"Yeah." Ron said, getting up and taking the old Charms book from Harry just before Hermione reached it. "A bit of fun never hurt anybody. Besides, it's beginning to get serious. You look a little more like McGonagall everyday." 

"It's not funny Ron." Hermione said with a smile as she climbed off Harry onto the harrdwood floor of the common room and put her hands on her hips. "It's really not! No, stop laughing!" 

Ron laughed at Hermione's reaction. "Ha ha ha! Really Herminoe! You act as though it were your child!" 

Herminone glared at Ron. "That book is essential to pass Charms." She said, pointing to the dark purple book in Ron's right hand. "So yes, it is very important to me. Now give it back Ron!" The last sentence was in a high whiney voice. "Please Ron, I need it." 

"How 'bout a game of chess Hermione?" Harry asked from behind her on the couch. Hermione turned on her heel and faced Harry. "I don't want to play chess, I want to study!" she yelled. 

Harry shrunk back against the sudden burst of anger. "God, Herminone, you don't need to yell. If chess isn't your game, we could play Exploding Snap." 

Hermione was about to tell Harry off, but Ron came up from behind and lifted her up off the floor with one arm wrapped around her small waist before she could. 

"Ahhh! Put me down Ronald Weasley! Ahh! Hee hee! Stop! No! Ha ha ha!" Hermione wiggled and kicked in Ron's grasp, but could not get away. 

"Come now, Hermione. Just one tiny game?" Ron asked sweetly. 

Hermione had her arm around Ron so that she would stay upright and not topple over. "How comfortable." She thought. Hermione hung loosely in his arms, studying his handsome face. The light, but not sickly pale skin. The small freckles sprinkled lightly across the bridge of his nose and under his eyes. The smooth, soft, pink lips that were slightly pouted. The brilliantly red hair, sprouting forth from the roots and twisting, curving as though it were real fire. And finally the eyes. Ron's beautifully rich, mahogony eyes. Eyes you could so easily get lost in. Eyes focused directly on Hermione. Observing her. Studying her. Looking at her as though she were the only thing in the room. The only thing that mattered in the entire world. Like Harry and Hogwarts and magic and wizards and everyone of his brothers and everyone he ever knew were nothing compared to her. Caring eyes. Loving eyes. 

Hermione shifted as best she could in Ron's embrace. The silence was getting to her, but she never broke her and Ron's gaze. She didn't know exactly what it was about the way Ron looked at her, but she knew there had to be something that sent that shiver of pleasure down her spine. And that was enough of a reason to not look away. 

Harry looked at his two silent friends. "They almost look cute together." He thought. "The ony thing is Hermione's feet are about three inches off the floor." He looked again at the looks they were giving eachother. 

"Umm... guys? You wanna tell me something?" Neither of them looked at him. Neither of them even acknowledged Harry's presence. "...Guys?" 

Finally Ron did look over at Harry. Not immediately, he kind of lingered on Hermione's features for a little while longer before he finally tore his eyes from her to respond to Harry. 

"Huh?" He asked stupidly. "Er... what'd ya say there, Harry?" He shook his head to get the sleepy feeling to go away. 

"Umm... nevermind. So how about that game?" Ron looked at Hermione and then back to Harry. "Sure." He said shrugging his shoulders. He gently set Hermione down and walked over to the couch where Harry was taking his Exploding Snap deck from his robe pocket. 

* * * 

"SNAP SNAP SNAP!!!" 

"Ahh!" 

Hermione shrieked as Ron misplaced a card, causing several below it to explode. "Argh! Damn it, I hate this game!" He shouted. 

"Watch your mouth, Ron." Hermione scolded as she collected her cards she had dropped when the small explosions startled her moments before. 

"It's getting kinda late anyways." Harry said sleepily. "maybe we should call it a night." 

Ron scowled at the three smoldering cards on the table. "You go on up," he said. "I've got a few things to do." 

Harry stood up and stretched. "Alright then. How 'bout you, Hermione?" 

Hermione looked up at Harry as if she just noticed he was there. "Oh, I've got a few more chapters to look over before tomorrow. I can't believe I let myself get distracted. Although I didn't have a choice, considering I was held against my will and all." Hermione smiled and cast a glance up at Ron, who was slowly taking apart the tower of carefully placed cards. 

Harry chuckled quietly. "All right then guys. I'll see you tomorrow morning, but don't stay up too late; the common room is already empty. And Ron, you make sure Hermione doesn't study too hard." 

"You bet I will." Said Ron without looking up. 

Harry yawned. "OK, 'night guys." 

"G'night." 

"Good night Harry." 

Harry left the common room as Ron took the last card from the pyramid and moved close to the fire. "What are you doing, Ron?" Hermione asked. 

"Burning these damned cards." He said. "It's a stupid game anyway." 

Hermione smiled knowingly as Ron threw the first cards in, each with a loud pop. 

"So what are you studying tonight?" He asked as he threw the last few cards in and walked over to the couch to sit down next to Hermione. "Oh you know, little of this, little of that." She said off-handedly. 

"Sounds interesting." Ron said as he snuggled right up close to Hermione and draped a quilt across the both of them. "It's chilly isn't it?" He asked as he felt Hermione tense against him. Hermione swallowed and nodded mutely. It was actually very warm sitting in front of the fire sharing a quilt with none other than Ron, but Hermione wasn't about to start complaining now. 

"Don't look at his eyes." She thought. "Don't look at his eyes or he'll have captured you." She looked at her hands in her lap. 

"Hermione..." Ron whispered. Hermione continued to look at her hands. 

"Hermione..." He said it again, but lower and throatier this time. "Oh gods." Hermione thought. "That is so attractive. Damn! What am I thinking? It's wrong to think of your friends like that. Why'd he have to go that sort of voice just then?" Hermione felt her mouth go dry. "Ron." She rasped. 

"Hermione... what are you thinking?" Ron asked in the same sexy growl. Hermione gulped. "I'm... I'm thinking of Transfiguration." She said meekly. The corner of Ron's mouth curved into a lopsided grin. "God, that's even more attractive." she thought as she risked a glance upwards. "Don't look at his eyes." She reminded herself. 

* * * 

"God, she's beautiful." He thought. "I just wish she'd look at me." Ron brushed a stray hair from her face. "How am I being so bold?" He asked himself silently. "I'm terrified on the inside, but I look so calm and in control on the outside." Hermione looked at the fire. 

Ron watched Hermione's thoughtful expression as she studied the bouncing flames. "_Kiss her_." A voice in the back of his head said. "_Just kiss her, you'll feel better_." Ron swallowed. "I can't just kiss her, she doesn't even know how I feel about her yet." 

"_So tell her already_." Came the voice again. "_Tell her that you love her and you never want to be without her_." 

"What? I can't do that now. Not the day before I'm supposed to meet Annabelle." 

"_Why not?_" Said the voice. "_Why wait until later to do something that could be done now? Look, you're in front of a warm cozy fire under a blanket with her. It can't get any better than this_." 

Ron looked at his surroundings. It _was_ quite perfect. Hermione and himself under a quilt in an empty common room on a cold winter's night. Alone. 

"You're right." He thought.   
  
"_Of course I am_." said the voice. 

Ron leaned in close to Hermione to where his entire body was pressed against hers and his lips were just inches from her ear. 

Hermione drew in a sharp intake of breath as she felt the warmth of Ron's body engulf her, but relaxed as he started to speak. 

"Hermione." He whispered, disturbing the small curls around her ear. "Don't tell me you don't feel that." 

Hermione's eyes widened. "Feel what?" She asked. 

"It." whispered Ron, slipping back into his former huskiness. "Us." 

"I- I uh... er, what?" Hermione stuttered, still avoiding his eyes. 

"You're a smart girl Hermione." Ron whispered again in her ear. "You figure it out." He leaned back to his normal position as Hermione turned to him. 

She looked at him. His strong chin, his flushed cheeks, that small dimple of his. 

His eyes. 

"I'm caught." She whispered so softly even Ron couldn't hear her. 

He was leaning. 

She was leaning. 

"This is it." They both thought. 

Closer, closer. Just an inch away. 

They closed their eyes. 

She turned her head. 

"I'm sorry, Ron." She said softly, her voice cracking. She stood up and faced the heart broken Ron with tears in her eyes. Ron looked desperately at Hermione. "Hermione..." He barely made out. His voice was no longer sexy, it was pained. His eyes seemed to plead with her and anyone else that would listen to tell him what just happened wasn't true. That Hermione hadn't just acted like she returned his feelings and at the last second turn him away. 

"I'm so sorry." She said again, letting out a sob. "You have no idea how much." 

Just as the tears started to flow she turned and left the common room. 

* * * 

*A/N* Wow... that is so sad. I could barely write it. I don't know, do you think I'm no good at writing these kind of scenes? Please give me your opinion. 


	5. Resolutions

Disclaimer: same as before.. ya know, I don't own any of them except for Annabelle. 

*A/N* I really, really love this chapter. Even if some of you R/H shippers don't... :-) When you're reading this, look for symbolism. There's already been some in previous chapters, but this chapter's just chock full of them. You can thank my English teacher, Miss Doerr, for that. :-) I love you Miss Doerr! Anyways, look for symbolism and motifs and such and tell me if you find any! 

* * * 

"Hi. You must be Annabelle." 

The pretty blonde looked up from the novel she had been reading at the sound of Ron's voice. All she needed was a quick flash of red to know exactly who it was. "Hi Ron." She said with a smile. 

Ron grinned at the sight of Annabelle. He couldn't help it really. Her own smile radiated and seemed to bring out the good in everything around them. 

"So," said Ron casually. "Mind if I sit down?" 

Annabelle shook her head and motioned to the spare space of bench beside her. Ron sat and thought of something to talk about so as to avoid any awkward moments with his new found friend. "Umm... you're in Ravenclaw, right?" 

"Yeah." she said absently, pulling at the thread of the binding of her book. "Yes, I'm in Ravenclaw." 

"Oh. That's nice..." Ron muttered. 

"Mhmm." Annabelle nervously twirled a strand of champagne-colored hair. "Hey Ron?" 

"Yeah?" Ron looked up expectantly. Suddenly, Annabelle gently grabbed hod of Ron's shoulders and started shaking him slightly. "Ron." she said. "Come on, Ron, get up." 

Ron cocked an eyebrow. "Er... is everything okay, Anna?" he asked worriedly. Annabelle shook a little harder and started to raise her voice. "Ron! What is wrong with you?" she looked over her shoulder at the empty Quidditch Field. "Did one of you guys drug him or something?" she looked back at Ron now. "My God, what'd you do last night?" 

Ron's eyes widened in astonishment as Annabelle's face began to change before him. Her hair seemed to grow short and darkened as her eyes turned greener than the grass around them, but even that was changing. It died and blew away in a great gust of wind, showing familiar hardwood floors beneath. The trees and goal posts sunk below the surface and the sky was wiped clear and replaced by gold and scarlet banners. 

"RON!" Harry screamed. 

Ron's eyes flew open and was greeted by harry's shimmering emeralds no more than two inches away from his own face. "AHH!" he screamed and jumped backwards to create distance between the two of them, but failed to realize there was no couch left to be had and toppled over onto the floor in a heap. 

Harry and the rest of Gryffindor burst into laughter as they watched Ron muttering profanities while trying to tear his way out of the twisted quilt and climb back onto the couch. 

"Ron," Harry said breathlessly after the roar of laughter had subsided. "What happened last night? Why'd you sleep down here?" 

Ron scowled. "Where's Hermione?" he asked, avoiding Harry's questions. 

"I don't know." Harry said. "No one saw her come down this morning... she must've gotten up early." 

Ron sighed. "Of course..." 

Harry sat next to Ron on the couch and looked at him with concern. "Something happened... didn't it?" he asked tentatively. 

Ron shook his head vigorously. "No, nothing happened, Harry." he swallowed the big lump in his throat. 

Harry rested his hand on Ron's shoulder. "It's not nice to lie, Ron. Come on then, tell me what happened. It'll help you feel better." 

Ron looked up at Harry's understanding eyes and then over his shoulder. No one was paying attention to them any more and had gone back to their previous activities. Ron sighed resignedly and turned back to face Harry. 

"Okay... something happened..." he said quietly. Harry nodded and prompted Ron to continue. 

"It's Hermione..." Ron said, his voice cracking. He cursed under his breath and wiped away an unnoticed tear. "Me and Hermione... we had a... a sort of romantic moment." 

Harry gaped. "You... you and- and Hermione? That's great Ron!" he said happily. 

Ron shook his head and swallowed another persistent lump. "No Harry. She turned away. We were so," he gulped. "So close, and she turned. She turned her head and ran up the stairs, Harry. She _ran._ She didn't even walk. She could've walked, but she chose to run. What does that tell you?" Ron looked away. He knew his emotions were clear on his face and he didn't want Harry to see them. 

Harry looked at his friend with pity. "It doesn't mean anything, Ron. You haven't talked to her since then, right?" 

Ron nodded wordlessly. 

"Well then you have no idea what she was thinking or feeling at that point." 

Ron traced the patterns on the quilt with his finger. "You didn't see her face though, Harry. You didn't see how she looked at me." 

Harry sighed. "You still don't know how she was feeling. The only way you'll know for sure is to talk to her." 

"I don't know where she is though." said Ron pointedly. 

"So?" said Harry "Go find her. You know her better than any one else, you should know where she is most of the time." 

Ron thought it over a moment, but quickly exclaimed "Of course!" and rushed out of the portrait hole. 

"Where's he going?" questioned Neville when he saw Ron's hasty depart. 

Harry smiled. "The library." 

* * * 

Hermione sat in the darkest corner of the library at the oldest table. She was hidden behind a massive pile of books to keep from view of any living thing. She didn't want anyone to see her like this; trembling and shaking under the overwhelming sorrow that that crashed down upon her. 

She felt comfort here. Away from pestering girls like Lavender and Parvati and insensitive boys like Fred and George. Here she felt safe. No one could see her weeping here. 

She hadn't wanted to hurt Ron like she had. That's the last thing she wanted. She cherished Ron and their relationship and never wanted to change that by any means. That's actually why this all happened. Why Hermione had run out on Ron last night and left them both hurt and confused. 

Hermione was smart. She thought things through and knew the consequences. The consequences of kissing Ron and starting a whole different relationship with him. They were too risky. Way too risky to even take the chance. 

Sure, being an item with Ron could mean a happily ever after, but what if they broke up? It'd be so uncomfortable around him afterwards and maybe even with Harry. She couldn't, she wouldn't take that chance of losing the only two friends she'd ever had. 

Hermione wiped her eyes and opened the closest book to her. "Read." she thought. "Reading relaxes you." 

"...Hermione?" 

Startled, Hermione looked up. "Seamus? What are you doing here? Isn't it lunchtime?" 

The Irish boy sat in the seat next to Hermione. "Yeah, it is, but I needed a few books for Charms before I went down. That doesn't matter, though. What's wrong with you?" 

"Nothing." Hermione lied and looked back down at her book. Seamus gently pushed her hair back behind her ear so he could see her face clearly. 

"Hermione, you're a terrible liar. And also, it doesn't help that your eyes are all red and puffy. 

Hermione's lip started to quiver as she began to cry again. "Oh Seamus..." 

Seamus inched towards Hermione and wrapped his arm around her. "It's okay Hermione... it's okay... shh... calm down..." Hermione waled and buried her face in the front of Seamus' robes. "Seamus..." 

Seamus wrapped his other arm around her in a comforting embrace and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Poor Hermione..." he whispered. "Do you? I mean, do you want to talk about it?" 

Hermione shook her head against Seamus' chest. "No." came her muffled voice. 

"That's okay." Seamus said as he began to rub her back softly to calm her cries. 

"I know this kind of heart ache." Seamus said suddenly after a few silent minutes had gone by, broken only by Hermione's occasional sob. When Hermione didn't respond, he continued. "No one cries like this unless they lost someone they love. I don't know if he broke up with you or cheated on you, but let me tell you something." Seamus pushed Hermione back at arms length and looked at her tear stained face. "You're beautiful Hermione. You're one of the most beautiful girls I know. And you're definitely the wittiest. There are just so, so many good qualities about you." 

Hermione looked away. 

Seamus gently took Hermione's chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her head to face him. "Hermione." he said softly. Hermione resisted, but eventually gave in and looked up into Seamus' hazel eyes. "My point, Hermione," he said as he cupped her face in his hands. "Is that you deserve better than that guy." 

Hermione sniffled. She was really quite dumbfounded by Seamus' maturity and understanding. She always saw him as just a silly boy. But now... 

"Seamus?" Hermione said shakily. Seamus brushed away one of Hermione's tears with his thumb. "Yeah Hermione?" 

"Kiss me." 

Seamus stopped short in his tracks. He wasn't used to this kind of fowardness by anyone let along _Hermione,_ but didn't miss a beat as he leaned in and captured Hermione's lips in his own. 

Watching fiftly feet away, Ron Weasley felt a piece of his heart wither and die. 

* * * 

It was a lovely day. It was one of those days where it actually hurt to be kept inside. The sun was shining so brightly down upon the luscious green grass, the glistening metal goal posts, and the ancient billowing trees. In the background you could hear bubbly laughter and gleeful voices shouting playfully at their friends. Sometimes the shouting was returned by more shouting. Other times by giggling or laughter. Every once and a while though, the shouts were followed by silence. 

"Silenced by a kiss." Ron thought bitterly. He started to imagine two people, laughing and playing. Just joking around until one pins the other to the ground. Slowly, the giggling would subside as they would realize how close they really were. Their faces would inch closer... then, after years of denying their feelings, they would share their first kiss. They'd kiss long and passionate and neither would turn away. Neither would put their whole former relationship in jeopardy just because they didn't want to open up and admit how they really felt. And neither, _neither _would run off and kiss Seamus Finnigan. 

"How dare she." Ron thought. "How _dare _she kiss him! Doesn't she see that nothing will be the same after this? After the moment we shared, the intense feelings we felt. You can't just forget those things. They just don't go away." He spat at the ground. "Well if she can find a replacement, so can I." 

Ron looked up at the sound of someone barely clearing their throat. "Ron?" said a voice made of bells. "Hi, I'm Annabelle." 

* * * 

*A/N* I'm so happy! I love this chapter! Did you find any symbolism or motifs? Write a review and tell me! 


	6. Aged Wine Tastes the Best

Disclaimer: I don't own any of them except for Annabelle. All others belong to J K Rowling 

*A/N* Last chapter!!! 

* * * 

I remember when I first met Ronald Weasley. It surprises me when I think about it now, but somehow I knew from the moment I saw that eleven year-old's agrivated little face on the Hogwarts Express the day I was first introduced to the world of magic, I knew I loved him. 

I remember how I used to hide it from him and Harry. And how I even tried to convince_ myself _that it wasn't true. I even remember how everytime my stomach did that somersault whenever I saw him, I'd rationalize it. I thought nothing of it and told myself that it was because the sight of him made me sick. 

The greatest years of my life were spent at Hogwarts with Ron and Harry. All three of us were so close. Many nights a week we could be spotted in the common room at three A.M. studying, talking, and sometimes doing nothing at all except listening to the rain pattering against the window. I never wanted that to change. Everything was already perfect, so why let my feelings about Ron interfere? 

It wasn't until late one night in front of the common room fire after an exciting game of Exploding Snap did I find out that Ron felt the same way about me. I was intrigued at first. That's why I nearly kissed him. Nearly. At the last second I had turned away. It had crushed me when I saw his face afterwards, but it had to be done. It was the only way. Me and Ron fought _all _the time. If we had followed through with that kiss and had actually started to date, there would've been a very high chance of a falling out. And if that had happened, I knew we would start drifting apart. 

That night, after I had run out on Ron, I could barely get any rest. I kept tossing and turning to the point where my roomates started cursing me in their sleep. Around five-thirty I gave up totally on sleep and decided to go down to the library and maybe avoid a confrontation with Ron in the morning, but on my way down I spotted him still on the couch in a quiet slumber under the faint light of the smoldering embers of the fire place. He looked so small and innocent curled into a ball under the heavy quilt, I felt I had to touch him. Even if it was the tinniest connection, I had to touch him. 

As quietly as I could, I leaned down and ever so gently caressed his cheek. He stirred in his sleep under my touch and I yanked my hand away in surprise. I barely heard him mutter "Hermione" sleepily as I turned and left for the library. 

I sat in there for near about seven hours, switching from reading, to crying, to sometimes both at the same time. I was almost finished with my tear shed when Seamus Finnigan found me. I was embarrassed at first, but as he started to talk and console me, I warmed up to him and started to feel comfortable. I was so upset about Ron and Seamus' sensitivity really touched me. I guess I was caught up in the moment, or maybe I was on the rebound, but well, I kissed him. 

Somehow Ron had found out about me and Seamus. We bickered everytime we saw eachother which, mind you, wasn't that much considering Ron was always off somewhere doing something all the time. 

One night Dean Thomas had found me up late waiting for Ron and he confessed that Ron had found a girlfriend named Annabelle. It really depressed me to hear that he had moved on, but I knew it was for the best. 

It was about four weeks after I had kissed Seamus before me and Ron actually made up. We were in the middle of a particularly loud quarrel when Harry, who had been in the middle of it all, started yelling at both of us, saying how we were both being really immature and needed to grow up. He didn't know the whole story, but he was right, nonetheless. 

Later on, when Harry wasn't around, Ron and I talked out our differences. It took a while to convince Ron, but in the end we both agreed that it was best that we hadn't gone out, and that we should just stay friends. And we did. For awhile that is. 

After we graduated, we kept in touch for some time. Sending owls with exciting news, special occasions, birthday wishes, and Christmas cards. The last letter I recieved from Ron told me that him and Annabelle were still going strong and they had recently bought a new house. 

Slowly, though, the letters came less and less until, finally, they stopped altogether. 

As for me and Seamus, we stayed together for about three years after our days at Hogwarts. We never married, and secretly, we both knew why. Seamus loved me. He really did, I felt it. I loved him back, too, but not in the same way. 

Seamus always believed that you could love a multiple number of people, but there was one kind of love inside each person, and that love was destined for one other person in the world. He sat me down one night in the living room of our flat and told me this. He told me that once you found that person you're destined to be with, and once you give that special kind of love to that person, you can't give it away again to someone else. He said I had already given my love away, and that I should find that person who I had given it to. 

I wept that night. Seamus held me. I thought that was really sweet of him to do that when he must've been going through his own grief. I mean, he just found out his girlfriend since fifth year didn't love him in the way she should. 

The next day Seamus insisted that he move out, but I refused. He had already done enough for me over the years, this was the least I could do. I didn't have much money, so I got a job here at Hogwarts as the new Transfigurations teacher after McGonagall had retired. I still don't have enough money for a home while school is out, so Dumbledore allowed me to stay here during the summer months as well as the regular school year. 

I do this a lot. Reflect on my past that is. Mostly in front of the lake, like I am now, and especially on days like this. So sunny and bright to the point where everything around you seems overly happy to be alive. One of those days where even if you're in the most dreadfullest of moods and you step outside, suddenly all is right in the world. Exactly what a summer day should be like. 

The summer holidays had started only three weeks ago so the only thing that was missing was the faint sound of children's voices. I've already gotten horribly lonely without anyone to talk to and without any classes to teach, I find myself out here by the lake almost everyday. 

"Hermione Granger, is that really you?" 

Hermione spun around and faced a tall, red-headed young man with a pack over his shoulder, his thumbs hitched in his pockets, and bouncing, jubilant eyes. She squinted against the bright sunlight and tried to place where she had seen the friendly face before. 

"...Ron?" 

The red-headed man gave her a familiar crooked smile. 

"RON!" 

Hermione jumped up and ran into Ron's muscular arms. "Oh Ron! Where have you been? Why are you here? Since when have you had muscles?" Hermione blurted out all at once. She looked up and grinned broadly at him. 

Ron smiled sadly and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Oh Hermione... I've missed you so much." he said barely above a whisper. 

Hermione smiled sweetly. "I've missed you too, Ron." she said in the same volume as he had. 

They stood like that for a while, admiring how much the other had changed over the years. Taking in as much detail as they possibly could. 

Ron was now a towering 6'6 where Hermione was a measley 5'7. His face had become more defined and his freckles had thinned out. His hair was wavier and perhaps redder, if possible, and his eyes... his eyes were darker than before. 

Hermione had barely changed, though, Ron observed. She still had that 'intelligent / sexy' look about her and had gotten a little tanner, but the most drastic change was her hair. 

"What's this?" Ron asked as he held up a strand of chestnut curls. 

"What's what?" she asked, eyeing Ron nervously. 

"This." he said, holding the hair in front of her. "What happened to the frizz? It's all... silky, I guess you girls would call it. What happened?" 

Hermione smiled shyly at Ron. She didn't know what he meant by it, but she took his observation as a compliment. "Oh... Sleekeazy came up with something new. It's a shampoo, so everytime I wash my hair it comes out nice and frizz-free without me having to deal with the original product." Hermione said brightly. 

Ron smiled. "It doesn't matter to me," he said as he let go of the strand of hair and watched it fall into place. "You were just as beautiful before." 

Hermione blushed and turned towards the blue and white checkered blanket layed out in front of the lake she'd been sitting on moments before. "Do you-" she pointed to the small blanket. "You know- want to sit or something?" she said, flustered. 

Ron grinned at how much he had ruffled Hermione's feathers and trudged over to the thin cotton cloth to sit down. 

Seconds later, Hermione appeared by his side and plopped down onto the ground, at which point she decided to start her questions again. 

"So why are you here Ron?" 

Ron got a faraway look in his eyes as he gazed out across the shimmering lake. "Sometimes I like to come out here during the summer. You know, just to remember things about my childhood. Things that happened and-" he looked over at Hermione."Things that could've happened." 

Hermione gulped. She loved the look he was giving her right now, even if it did make her mouth go dry and lose any coherent thought. It was so wonderfully sultry and made you just melt all over the floor. 

They sat there doing little else besides staring at eachother before Hermione cleared her throat and looked away. 

"Where's Annabelle?" Hermione asked quietly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Ron sighed and looked back out at the lake. "We aren't together anymore." he brushed a stray hair from his line of vision and took a deep breath. "Things didn't work out. She accused me of not loving her." 

Hermione gave him a meaningful look. "But Ron, didn't you tell her that she was wrong and that you did love her?" 

Ron shook his head. "No, she was right. I didn't love her the way I should've. I'm just happy the relationship didn't go on any further. Now I have my whole life ahead of me to find the person I'm meant to be with." 

Hermione smiled. "You have such a good attitude about it. I mean, when me and Seamus broke up last year I was devastated." 

Ron looked over at his friend incredulously. "You and Seamus broke up? But... but why?" 

Hermione frowned slightly and ran her finger along the hem of her blouse. "Just about the same reason you and Anna split. I didn't love him the way I should have after six years of being together. It wasn't fair to him so I moved out and got a job here." she motioned towards the castle. 

Ron looked up at the old desolate school and grinned. "I always knew you'd become a teacher, Hermione." he said and poked her playfully. "So what do you teach?" 

"Transfigurations." she replied as she mimicked Ron's childish behavior and poked him back. 

Ron stopped mid-poke, smiled, and burst into laughter. 

"What's so funny?" Hermione demanded as her good mood considerably lessened. 

"N- nothing, Hermione." he managed between giggles. 

Hermione crossed her arms in frustration and looked sternly at Ron. "Tell me." 

Ron continued to laugh. "Oh it's just- I was just thinking that- that the transformation is finally complete- you've finally become McGonagall!" At the end of his explanation he toppled over, clutching his stomach in fits of laughter. 

Hermione tried to frown, but her friends good nature got the best of her and she, too, fell over giggling. 

Soon both were rolling around on the front lawn of the castle, enjoying the wonderful feeling inside their stomachs as they laughed hysterically at an old school joke.   
  
When they had both finally calmed down they found themselves laying spread eagled with Ron's head resting on Hermione's stomach and both staring lazily up at the clear blue sky. "You know, Hermione," Ron said suddenly. "Out of all my friends, you're my favorite." 

Hermione smiled and drew lazy circles on Ron's chest with the tip of her finger. "You're mine too, Ron. You always have been." 

Ron got a satisfactory look upon his face as Hermione noticed Ron's bag he had been carrying before. "What's this?" she asked as she saw that something was sticking out of it. 

"What's what?" asked Ron sleepily. 

"This." said Hermione as she sat up and picked the object out of Ron's pack. "It's a book... oh my goodness, 'Little Women'?!?" Hermione gasped. "What's gotten into you, Ron?" 

Ron quickly snapped out of his daze. "What? Hey! Give that back!" he exclaimed, reaching for it. 

"No." said Hermione delightedly. "I think I'll keep it for later use if I ever want something from you." She stood up and ran about ten feet away. "Come on, Ron!" she yelled happily. "Bet you can't catch me!" 

Ron jumped up and ran after Hermione. "Come here, you!" he shouted. 

Hermione sprinted away, but was no match to Ron's long muscular legs. He quickly caught up with her, but hadn't judged his speed correctly and ran straight into her, sending them both into a heap on the ground. 

They layed there on top of eachother, giggling for what seemed like ages before Hermione quieted and realized how astonishingly close they were. 

"Umm... hey Ron?" 

Ron was still laughing, but tried to answer as best as he could. "Hee hee- yeah Hermione?" 

Hermione looked nervously around for anyone who could see them, but quickly reminded herself that no one was there for the summer holidays. 

"Do you see how um... close we are?" she asked awkwardly. 

Ron's laughter slowly died as he, too, realized the closeness. "...Do you um," he shifted slightly, causing his and Hermione's bodies to align perfectly and Hermione to inhale sharply. "Want me to get off?" he asked quietly. 

Hermione subconciously began to play with a strand of her hair and averted her eyes. "No." she confessed in a whisper. 

Ron smiled. "Neither do I." 

Hermione looked sadly up at Ron and sighed. "Ron... I want you to know something. Please, don't say anything, just listen or I may never be able to say this again." 

Ron stayed silent and simply watched from above. 

Hermione took a deep breath and continued. "I want you to know that... that I've always loved you. From the first time I saw you I loved you. And the only reason I didn't kiss you that eventful night was because I was scared. I was scared of losing you and Harry. I'm not scared anymore though, Ron. I'm not. I don't have anything else to lose. I'm not afraid of you drifting away anymore. You've already drifted as far as you can drift. There's no where left to go but up." 

Hermione swallowed as she finished and felt the pools of water that had been collecting in the corners of her eyes overflow and seep into her hair. 

"Oh Hermione..." Ron whispered as he watched, in anguish, another tear fall. "Don't cry... not over this." 

Hermione roughly dried her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry." she said. "But I can't help it. I'm scared." 

Ron gave her a quizzical look. "I thought you said you weren't scared." 

Hermione laughed. "You know what I mean." 

Ron pushed away a hair that had plastered to Hermione's face. "Actually, I don't, but that doesn't matter. I know what you meant by your little speech." 

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What's that?" 

Ron smiled. "Basically, you'd like to give it a go." 

Hermione giggled and looked up at Ron appreciatively for easing the tension. "Yeah, basically." 

"Right," Ron said, eyeing Hermione's lips. "Well then this relationship should be started properly." 

"And how's that?" Questioned Hermione. 

Ron licked his lips. "Like this." 

He slowly leaned forward and shared his long-awaited first kiss with Hermione. 

It was firm, yet gentle. Sloppy, but professional. Simple, yet complicated. It was tender and loving and contained passion, understanding, and forgivness. Electricity flowed between them as they both melted into the kiss and Hermione lifted her right hand to gently touch the side of Ron's cheek as he carefully cupped her face. 

"Ron..." she whispered when they finally pulled away for oxygen. 

"Shh..." he said softly, and silenced her with another kiss. 

* * * 

*A/N* YAY!!!! MY VERY FIRST FANFIC IS DONE!!! PLEASE REVIEW!!! 


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